With a title taken from the traditional opening phrase of Armenian fairytales, Emily Mkrtichian’s feature debut hints at the impermanence of life itself. Shot in the now defunct republic of Artsakh, the film follows four extraordinary women who find their hopes and ambitions cruelly derailed by war. The breakaway state was formed in 1991, after decades of political discrimination under the Soviet Union and military conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan. For the predominantly Armenian population here, their peace has always been under threat.
The personal journeys of Mkrtichian’s subjects feel even more remarkable in the face of these uncertainties. A judo champion, Sose aspires to represent her country at the Olympics; Siranush campaigns to be on the city council; and Gayane runs a support group for women. For those living in Artsakh, memories of the last war are more than a spectre; working in bomb disposal, Sveta defuses mines that are still lodged in the verdant landscape. Though their professions vary, they are all committed to bettering the community, a testament to the strong cultural bonds that exist here.
Captured with dynamism and intimacy, their individual stories collide when war breaks out in 2020. As the Azerbaijani army closes in, the women’s daily lives are disrupted by the sounds of sirens, and even explosions. Gayane and her family become displaced; they now live in Armenia as refugees. Sose, heartbreakingly, has to put her sports career on hold as she joins the military. In a contrast to an earlier scene, in which the bubbly young woman teaches judo to a class of children, she is now seen instructing a group of women on weapon assembly. With such burdens on their shoulders, it is a tragedy that Gayane and the rest of her community are forced to leave their dreams behind.
• There Was, There Was Not is at Bertha DocHouse, London, from 7 November.
